This is a lot more popular than I excepted! You guys are great!
"I'm... hungry." Dean said, slightly swaying back and forth on the couch. "Dean, you just barfed half of the contents of your stomach onto the sidewalk. You are not eating until tomorrow." Sam ran a hand through his hair. What did grown ups do when they were drunk? Sleep. They slept. "Bed time." Sam said, helping Dean upward. "It would be nice if you would help a little. I'm just dragging dead weight here." Sam grumbled. "You know... you lov- OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT GOING DOWN!" Dean shouted as the floor suddenly rushed up the meet his face. "AAAHHH!" Sam was quickly drug down with Dean and pinned under him. "Dean get off. I don't want to be under you." Sam said, trying to wiggle free. "But... I like being... on top of you..." Dean pouted. Sam stood up when Dean rolled over. He was 99% certain that was a sex refinance. "You have pretty eyes." He shook his head and reminded himself that Dean was drunk. Together the pair slowly made their way up the stairs, looking like drunk potato sack racers. Sam really hoped Dean didn't fall now because they were half way up the stairs.
"Aaannnddd we're here." Sam breathed a sigh of relief as they walked into Dean's room. Wait. Crap this wasn't Dean's room this was Sam's room. "Dean wait this isn't-" Dean lumbered over to the bed and flopped down on it, taking up 95% of it. "Dean. Dean? Crap." Sam nudged Dean. "Beautiful. He's asleep. Nuts." Sam stared at him for a moment. "I hope he wakes up before supper." Sam sighed, walking out of the room and closing the door. "What the heck was all of that suppose to mean anyways?" Sam wondered out loud. Alcohol did strange things to a person. Sam just hoped Dean didn't become like John. John, not dad. It was impossible to see him as a father with the way he treated Sam and Dean. He was always drunk or gone. No 'I love you' or 'I missed you' from him. Just expectations and Dean being a good little solider. Most of the time. He doubted it sometimes to. But if he wanted to leave he sure hid it well. Sam on the other hand had dreams of getting out of this life and going to collage. Not Dean. Dean loved this life. He picked up the vodka bottle and realized Dean downed the entire thing. Crap.
Sam paced around the kitchen. He was worried and twitchy. Stand up, pace, sit down, repeat. He paused mid-step when he heard a soft scuffling noise. He dashed up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He skidded into the bathroom to find Dean bent over the toilet, barfing. Sam kneeled down beside him, rubbing his back. Dean dry heaved awhile before leaning against the tub. Sam wiped his mouth with a wet cloth. He handed Dean a cup of water. "Here. Rinse your mouth out then spit it into the toilet." Sam said before going to fetch pillows and blankets. He returned with the bedding and formed a makeshift bed on the floor for Dean. He helped Dean out of his clothes and into the makeshift bed. He sighed, watching Dean. Sam stripped and killed the lights before climbing in beside Dean. He wrapped his arms protectively around Dean. Dean nuzzled into Sam's chest. "Ich liebe dich und du bist schön." Dean said happily. "...What does that mean?" Sam asked, gently running his right hand through Dean's hair. "Not saying." Sam sighed. He knew he'd never get it out of Dean because he would probably forget by morning. "Love is taking care of the drunk idiot who is speaking in tongues." Sam said. He sighed, ignoring the fact that neither of them had supper and went to sleep.
Dean woke up with his face buried in Sam's chest. Well, shit. This was bad. What all did he say? He recalled grabbing Sam's ass and saying 'Ich liebe dich und du bist schön'. Crap. He said he loved Sam and that Sam was beautiful. "Here's to hoping he doesn't know what that meant." Sam began to stir beside him. "Dean? How are you feeling?" Of course the first thing Sam was worried about was Dean. "I'm the first thing you think about? I'm touched. Really Sammy. But I can handle myself." Dean retorted. "Exhibit A." Sam said when Dean tried to stand up and fell down. "I had to much vodka last night." He muttered. "You don't say. Never would have guessed." Sam stood up, helping Dean up as well. Dean swayed back and forth. "Scat I gotta piss." Dean said, gently shoving Sam towards the door. "Nope. You're hung over and I wouldn't put it past you to fall down from a stand still." Sam said, placing a steading hand on Dean's shoulder. Boy did that ever make his mind track go haywire. "I won't look I just don't want you to get hurt." Sam said.
Sam and Dean slowly made their way down the stairs. "What, what happened last night?" Dean asked. "You barfed. You made sex references. You slept. You barfed again. You slept some more." Sam stated simply. "Oh, by the way, what does 'Ich liebe dich und du bist schön' mean?" Sam asked. Dean looked away awkwardly. "Where did that come from?" Sam looked at him. He knew that Dean was avoiding it. "You said it last night before we went to sleep. When you said it, it was like you were getting something off your chest. Some big confession that you couldn't say in English." Dean looked away. "Just drop it Sam, okay?" Sam knew better than to push it. He sighed. If only Dean knew how he felt.
Chapter four. Woulda had it up sooner but I had a killer headache on Saturday. (In Caleb's words, like drinking a bottle of whiskey minus the buzz, the fun, and the fact that hey, you're drunk)
